


Baby, I'm Faded

by trulymadlylarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, M/M, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulymadlylarry/pseuds/trulymadlylarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wears a crop top to a nightclub, and Louis can't control himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I'm Faded

Louis doesn’t bother knocking anymore.  They practically share the damn house, anyway.  Harry gave him a key a few months ago, and despite the constant traveling and relocating, Louis always kept it.  

Louis unlocks the front gate by typing in the passcode: Louis’s birthday.  It beeps before opening slowly, _too_ slowly, and he taps his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.  Finally, he rolls his car up the curvy driveway, tires crunching over the gravel path.  He parks the car and lets out a sigh of relief.  This is _home._  He missed it dearly.

Harry’s white mansion is beyond extravagant, tucked in the woods with a large fence around it to keep out paps and wandering eyes.  It sticks out like a sore thumb, but then again, Harry’s always liked weird things.  Perhaps that’s why he likes Louis so much.

He trudges up the front steps to Harry’s porch, struggling to carry his heavy luggage.  He fumbles with the key for a few seconds.  The metal material feels hot against his sweaty palm.  

Curse this stupid heatwave.

He just returned from another “date” set up by their publicity team in Los Angeles.  Honestly, he’s never felt so miserable.  The girl was nice, easy to talk to, and quite pretty, but she wasn’t _Harry._  This whole ‘rebranding’ thing is really taking a toll on him.  Their management team has been pushing this ‘bad-boy-womanizer’ facade on Louis ever since Zayn left.  At first he didn’t mind because it took some of the unneeded attention off of Harry, but frankly, being the band’s new frontman exhausts him.

The key ticks inside the lock.  Louis smiles tiredly as he pushes open the door.  It squeaks loudly, the sound echoing through empty walls.  He reaches over blindly and struggles to find the light switch, then flicks it on.  A yellowish glow fills the living room.  He shuts the door behind him, sealing out the hot, humid air.

After shuffling his feet over the welcome mat, Louis unlaces his muddy converse and discards them next to Harry’s growing collection of boots and heeled shoes.  He grins at the sparkly black ones that glimmer in this dim lighting.  

Louis’s luggage rolls behind him as he walks towards Harry’s bedroom.  He steps inside and sighs, feeling the soft carpet squish between his toes.  The air smells familiar and comforting, like vanilla candles.  He squints his eyes through the darkness and can faintly see Harry asleep in the king-sized bed, curled up like a little cocoon.  Despite the hot weather, a thin white sheet drapes over his body, outlining his perfect curves.    

Louis peels off his shirt and wiggles out of his tight trousers, keeping only his boxers.  He leaves his suitcase on the floor and decides to unpack it later.  Right now, he needs sleep.

He climbs into bed next to Harry, trying not to disturb the sleeping boy.  Now his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and Louis can see Harry’s beautiful face as he sleeps soundly, little snores escaping his bubblegum lips.  His eyelashes look long and beautiful as they flutter against his soft cheeks.  Louis doesn’t know what he did to deserve such an angelic boyfriend.

Harry’s bed is always the most comfortable.  It doesn’t compare to the lumpy hotel mattresses and cramped tour bus bunks.  As Harry lies on his side, Louis wraps his arm securely around his waist and presses Harry’s bum to his crotch comfortably.  

It’s not a sexual thing, but he likes having Harry so close and intimate as he falls asleep.  He breathes softly against Harry’s long hair and presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

Harry flinches suddenly, his eyes snapping open.  “Lou?” he grumbles, his voice thick of sleep.  He glances down to see Louis’s hand resting on his belly.  He smiles at the infinite rope tattoo that wraps around Louis’s wrist.

“Sorry, love.  I didn’t mean to wake you,” Louis whispers against his skin.  “Go back to sleep.”

Harry sighs as he flips over, so he’s turned towards Louis’s face.  Even in the darkness, he can see Louis’s hollowed cheekbones and sharp jawline.  

“I missed you,” Harry says, and Louis’s stomach flips at how husky and wrecked he sounds.

“I missed you, too,” Louis promises.

“How was L.A.?”

Louis winces.  “Let’s not talk about that right now, darling.”

Harry nods slowly, eyes meeting Louis’s.  “Okay, but… did you have to kiss her?” he asks nervously.

Louis pauses before shaking his head.  “No, of course not.  Just held her hand for a bit.”

A look of relief washes over Harry’s face.  “Good.”

A smirk tugs on the corners of Louis’s mouth.  “Jealous, babe?”

Harry just rolls his eyes in response and presses his lips to Louis’s.  The kiss is slow and lazy— not rushed at all.  It’s comfortable and habitual, having known each other for so long.  

“Mine,” Harry growls, pulling Louis’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Louis snickers and kisses the tip of Harry’s nose.  “Yours,” he assures, fingers tracing random patterns up Harry’s torso.  Harry whimpers quietly underneath his touch.  It feels like fire blazing on his warm skin.

Suddenly, Louis thumbs the material of Harry’s shirt and raises an eyebrow in confusion.  “Is this one of my jerseys?” he asks.  Before Harry can respond, Louis peels back the bedsheet and narrows his eyes.  

The small jersey fits Harry tightly, the white and red stripes curving around his adorable tummy.  The shirt’s hem falls just over Harry’s navel, thanks to Louis and Harry’s glorious height difference.  Apart from the football jersey, Harry’s only wearing a thin pair of cotton panties with a sinful lace trim.  Louis’s breath catches in his throat.  His thick thighs look heavenly—  good enough to eat.  His fern tattoos poke out to accentuate his hipbones.  

“Christ, Haz,” Louis chokes out at loss of words.

Harry bites his lip bashfully.  “It smells like you,” he clarifies, blush rising to his cheeks.

Louis huffs and pushes Harry’s back into the mattress.  He straddles his waist and rests his hands on Harry’s love handles.  Harry looks up with wide pupils and puffy lips.

Louis’s hands travel up his stomach, lifting up the figure-hugging shirt.  He knows that the backside says ‘Tomlinson’ and ‘28,’ which turns him on even more.  It’s like a marking of ownership, along with the countless fading lovebites that speckle his skin like stars.

“Love your tummy,” Louis purs, splaying his fingers over Harry’s butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah?” Harry says quietly and cranes his neck a bit.  It’s an invitation to suck a love bite, and Louis knows this, but he’ll save that for later.

“Love it so much, baby.  It’s my favorite part of you,” Louis explains.  He leans down and presses a kiss to Harry’s belly button.  

“That tickles,” Harry giggles, feeling Louis’s rough stubble scratch his skin.

“Could kiss your tummy all day,” Louis praises.  “You should wear a crop top.  Let the world see your pretty stomach, but they can’t touch it.”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath.  “Can you fuck me already?  You woke me up for this, y’know,” he teases, but there’s a hint of seriousness to his tone.  

Louis’s cock twitches as he pushes up his jersey even more to reveal his nipple.  His lips hover over the swollen bud, his hot breath sending shivers down Harry’s spine.

“You’re not too tired?” Louis asks rhetorically.  His tongue flicks over his nipple, and Harry jolts a little, hands fisting the bedsheets.

“No,” Harry pants, voice shaking.  “I’m wide awake.”

००० two weeks later ०००

“Harry,” Louis calls out loudly, “are you almost ready?”

One Direction’s OTRA tour is currently on break, meaning the lads actually have free time.  Lately, they’ve been using that spare time to lounge around and be lazy.  And that’s okay sometimes because their bodies need relaxation, given their hectic schedules.  But now Louis wants to go clubbing.  He wants to get drunk and snog his boyfriend in public, hoping that nobody will snap a photo and piss off their management team.  

He wants to live dangerously.

Harry steps out of the bathroom with a loud sigh, and Louis eyes him from head to toe.  His stare cuts like a dagger.  He nearly chokes on his own tongue.

“Harry,” Louis says at loss of words.

He looks absolutely delicious, from his messy bun to his worn-out boots.  Scratches decorate the leather material like veins.  Tight white skinny jeans cling to his thighs and bum, and they’re from the women’s department, so they ride lowly on his hips.  

And he’s wearing a fucking crop top.  Louis’s never seen that shirt in his entire life.  It’s pretty and black and cuts off near the bottom of his butterfly tattoo.  The loose material creates ripples in the soft fabric.  The neck scoops low, too, so Louis can see the tops of his sparrows and his gorgeous collarbones.  

“What?” Harry asks innocently, fluttering his eyelashes.  He tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

Louis shakes his head with disbelief.  “What are you wearing?”

Harry freezes, playing with the hem of his crop top.  “What?  You don’t like it?” he asks worriedly.

Louis’s eyes widen.  “No, of course I love it!  Jesus Christ, Harry.  You look beautiful.”

Harry blushes and giggles a little under his breath.  “Okay, good.  Do you want to leave, then?”

Louis nods wordlessly and walks with Harry towards the car.  

Harry’s always been very experimental with fashion.  He likes to push boundaries, not caring about others’ opinions.  He wears whatever he feels comfortable in, whether that be a fedora, sparkly boots, tacky Hawaiian shirt, or, well, a crop top.  Louis’s always loved that about him.  Harry straddles the line between feminine and masculine, and he really doesn’t care, either.  He likes to paint his nails and braid his hair.  

And Louis likes it, too.  He likes it a lot— maybe a little too much.

The car ride to the nightclub is tense— not awkwardly so, but tense nonetheless.  Louis drives and keeps one of his hands on Harry’s thigh, despite Harry’s protests to keep both hands on the wheel.   

The club is packed.  People crowd the club like packed sardines, grinding up each other to the beat of the music.  Flashing lights flicker as the bass vibrates the floor.  

Louis and Harry act completely different whilst under the influence of alcohol.  Louis’s a loud drunk.  After a few drinks, he starts screaming nonsense and talking loudly over the music.  And then there’s Harry, who becomes a giggly hot mess.  

It’s only a matter of time and a few (many) shots of tequila until they’re both wasted.  Harry slots against Louis’s body, clinging to him for dear life.  Louis places one of his hands on Harry’s hip, his other clutching a half-empty cup of beer.  Harry’s arse looks perfect in those white jeans, perhaps sculpted by gods, and Louis feels his blood boil beneath his skin.  

ZHU’s song “Faded” plays loudly over the speakers, and Louis shouts the lyrics at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down on his tip toes.  Harry wraps his arms around Louis’s waist and pulls him closer.  He presses his lips to his ear, breath hot and heavy.

“Having fun?” he nearly shouts, struggling to hear his own voice over the loud music and constant chatter.

Louis nods, his eyes hazy with alcohol.  His hands roam over Harry’s bare belly.  “You look like a slut like this,” he taunts, and Harry sucks a deep breath.

“Your s-slut,” he promises, hiccuping through his drunkenness.

Louis swears under his breath as Harry takes out his elastic hair band, shaking his head to let his hair down.  It falls in messy waves to his shoulders.  Louis clenches his jaw and grabs Harry’s hair at the roots, yanking a bit.  He gasps in response and shifts his bum against Louis’s crotch.

Amongst the flashing lights, Louis notices Harry’s nails painted a light shade of red, almost pink.  He looks absolutely beautiful— so beautiful that he can’t control himself anymore.

“Fuck,” Louis hisses, nipping at Harry’s bare shoulder.  He reaches under his loose top and tweaks one of his nipples, rotating the swollen nub between his thumb and index.  Harry bites his lip to suppress a moan.

“Such a beautiful torso, baby,” Louis whispers into the shell of his ear.

Harry’s wrecked.  His legs feel wobbly as he melts into Louis’s touch.

“Wanna head home early, love?” Louis asks, even though he knows the answer.

Harry nods vigorously.  “Please,” he gasps.

He makes a mental note to wear crop tops more often.

०००

Louis and Harry start snogging as soon as they walk in the front door, alcohol fueling the heated kiss.  Harry’s clumsiness gets the better of him as they stumble blindly down the hallway, limbs knocking together and against walls.  He giggles into Louis’s mouth.  

Louis places his hand on Harry’s tummy and presses him backwards until his knees knock against the edge of the bed.  He falls backwards with a startled gasp, but sighs when the mattress catches his fall.  Louis smirks and squeezes his pudgy hips.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Louis murmurs.

“Lou, Lou, p-please touch me,” Harry begs, withering against the messy white sheets.

“Patience,” Louis hums as his hands roam up Harry’s belly, knuckles bulging under the fabric of his crop top.  

He presses kisses over Harry’s butterfly tattoo, dotting the wings with his soft lips.  He gently nips at his skin.  Harry practically sobs with eagerness.  He lifts his hips off the mattress, bringing Louis’s mouth even closer.  Louis’s fingers gently trace his hipbones, slowly dragging them towards Harry’s crotch.  The younger boy bites his bicep in an attempt to suppress moans.

“How’d you squeeze in these jeans, hm?” Louis taunts as he unbuttons them.  The zipper comes undone shortly after, the sound sending a pang to Harry’s cock.  He feels a sense of relief as Louis tugs them downward.

“Such pretty thighs,” Louis compliments, yanking the trousers past Harry’s knees and down to his ankles.  Harry whimpers and kicks them off.  He feels like he’s on fire, desperate to get out of these clothes as soon as possible.

“Want me to eat you out?” Louis asks delicately, purposely settling his hand over Harry’s erection.  “Want me to eat that beautiful arse of yours?”

Harry nods frantically, his hair bouncing with lovely curls.  “Please, Lou, I just—”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Louis hushes, pushing down Harry’s underwear.  

Harry’s pretty cock is pink and swollen already, pre-cum bubbling at the tip.  Louis licks his lips and, without any warning, takes his head into his mouth.  He swirls his tongue around his tip and hollows his cheeks, bringing him in deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry nearly screams, clawing at the sheets.  

Louis lets go with a loud ‘pop.’  “Don’t swear, darling,” he warns.

He moves his tongue down to Harry’s puffy hole, leaving light kitten-licks around the rim.  Harry cries out in pleasure and squeezes his legs a little tighter.  He feels Louis’s stubble scraping his inner thighs, and he knows that he’ll have little red dots all over his arse in the morning as a result.

His wet tongue curls and presses towards his entrance.  Harry moans loudly and reaches for his cock, but Louis scolds him and swats his hand away.  He’s in charge, after all.  To prove his point, Louis nips at his hole, grazing his teeth as his tongue darts inside.

“Ow, fu— oh my god, Lou,” Harry groans, stopping himself before he swears.

Louis spreads his arse cheeks, giving his mouth better access.  He curls and uncurls his tongue again, eliciting a moan from Harry as his cock twitches against his stomach.

“Want me to fuck you now?” Louis asks breathlessly.

“Yeah, yeah, please,” Harry rambles quickly.  “Just— please, need you.”

Louis hushes him.  “Deep breaths, alright?” he says calmly, running his hands gently down Harry’s ribcage.  “Lay down for me, yeah?  On your back.  I wanna see your pretty tummy.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat.  He scoots back in the bed until his head reaches the pillows.  He sighs in relief, because they smell like lavender, thanks to the laundry detergent that Louis picked out.  He grips his crop top and tries to pull it off, but Louis grabs his wrist firmly.

“No, sweetheart.  Keep it on,” he insists.

Harry pauses.  “O-okay.”

Louis breathes hotly as he takes off his shirt, discarding it next to Harry’s stupidly tight jeans.  He wiggles out of his own trousers and kicks them to the side.  He then snatches the strawberry-flavoured lube and a condom off the bedside table and settles between Harry’s shaking knees.

“You’re so pretty,” Louis says in awe, eyes raking over Harry’s almost-naked body.  He touches his legs delicately, and Harry’s trembling body stills.  He always finds comfort in Louis’s warm hands.

Harry blushes at the compliment and smiles fondly.  “You’re prettier,” he murmurs.

“Agree to disagree,” Louis hums as he uncaps the lube.  He squirts a generous amount over his index and middle fingers.  

“Ready?” Louis asks as the pad of his pointer finger traces Harry’s hole.  Harry bites his lip and nods, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face.

“Yeah, definitely,” he breathes.

Louis nudges the tip of his forefinger past Harry’s tight muscle, still wet from his tongue.  He finds little restriction as he wiggles it inside.  His walls feel tight yet inviting at the same time.  Harry’s pants as he grinds down on Louis’s finger, and then he crooks it perfectly, and Harry cries out with ecstasy.

Louis’s middle finger soon follows along the first, and he thrusts them together before scissoring him open.  Harry moans Louis’s name repeatedly.  The stretch feels incredible.

The third finger enters slowly.  Harry’s teeth clamp down on his bottom lip.  It’s uncomfortable at first, and it burns deep in his abdomen, but Louis knows how to handle his body.  He gives Harry a few seconds to adjust before pressing his fingers inward, slowly, and then angles them in the perfect spot.

“L-Lou!  Right there!” he whimpers, grinding down on his fingers.

Louis smirks and thrusts them in again, and again, and again, until Harry’s just bouncing down on his fingers and shaking the entire bed.  

“Need your cock,” Harry exhales, eyes pleading.

Louis removes his fingers and wipes them on the bed sheets.  He’ll wash them later.  He’s on laundry duty, anyway.  

He takes off his boxers and feels relief as his hard cock springs free.  Harry’s chest rises and falls with anticipation, and for a second, it looks like his butterfly wings are fluttering.  Louis hovers over Harry and kisses him passionately.  He cards through Harry’s messy hair, smiling against his lips as he hums contently.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he promises and pumps his cock a few times, bringing it to its full length.  He rips open the condom with his teeth and spits out the wrapper, then rolls the disc over his cock.  

He lines up with Harry’s clenching entrance and presses the tip in slowly.  Harry’s breath shakes as he goes deeper, struggling to stretch around his girth.  His dick is thicker than three fingers, and even though they’ve fucked countless times, the tightness still stings.

“So pretty,” Louis purrs, rubbing his nipple under the crop top to distract him from the pain.  He pushes in deeper and Harry gives a high-pitched whine.  “My pretty boy.”

Louis places his hand over Harry’s lower abdomen, pressing downward.  He feels his cock protrude slightly from his stomach.  He thinks back to when they first discovered belly-bulging a few years ago.  Perhaps that’s what sparked his obsession with Harry’s gorgeous stomach.

He starts moving slowly at first, but Harry whimpers with impatience.

“Fuck me, c’mon, please?   _Daddy_?” he asks politely.

Louis swears under his breath.  Harry knows what that word does to him.  Louis smirks and presses a gentle kiss to Harry’s jawline.  He thrusts slowly at first, and they both groan at the same time, the anticipation building up between them.  He moves faster and pushes into Harry’s tight heat frantically.  

“Oh, oh, oh,” Harry grunts between thrusts.  He lifts up his legs and wraps them around Louis’s waist, pulling him even closer.  Louis thanks every godly being for Harry’s new-found flexibility.  Yoga sure comes in handy during sex.

Veins bulge from Louis’s neck as he thrusts deeper, faster, harder.  The bed creaks loudly beneath them.  Harry’s dull nails claw at Louis’s shoulders, leaving scratches on his beautifully tanned skin.  

“You’re so beautiful, fuck,” Louis whispers into Harry’s neck.  “So good for daddy.  Make me so proud.”

Harry’s cheeks flush pink.  “Lou,” he croaks, unable to say anything else.

A loud moan ripples past Harry’s lips as Louis hits his prostate.  He chews on his bottom lip and almost breaks the skin.  Louis watches his reaction and aims for the same spot.  Harry hisses in pleasure and bites down on his knuckles.  He’s always been loud during sex, and Louis knows he’s insecure about it, but he’s told Harry countless times not to be embarrassed.  

“No,” Louis scolds, stalling his movements.  “Let daddy hear you, love.”

Harry’s face scrunches, but he obeys.  His jaw goes slack as the head of Louis’s cock hits his prostate repeatedly.  His vision goes blurry.

“I— Lou,” Harry gasps.

“You wanna cum?” Louis asks.

Harry nods, unable to give a coherent verbal response.   

Louis reaches between their stomachs and grabs Harry’s sensitive cock.  He pumps his length a few times, and Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head.  His mind becomes fuzzy with overwhelming pleasure.  

“Come for me, baby,” Louis says, accentuating each word with a thrust.

“Louis!” Harry screams as he orgasms, cumming all over his chest.  Streaks of white paint his beautiful stomach, decorating his chest tattoos with cum.  

The beautiful sight, as well as Harry clenching down around him, has Louis orgasming, too.  He cums hard, thrusting into Harry’s loose and wet hole through his blissful orgasm.  

Louis pulls out as soon as he catches his breath.  Harry winces slightly at the loss.  Louis rolls next to him on the bed, their hearts racing together at the speed of sound.

Louis stands up shakily and stumbles into the nearby bathroom.  The tiled floors feel cold underneath his tiny feet.  He grimaces as he peels off the used condom and tosses it into the rubbish bin.  He then proceeds to grab a wet cloth and runs it under the warm water.

He walks back into the bedroom and plops down on the bed.  He settles between Harry’s spread legs again and wipes off his sticky torso with the wet cloth.  Harry hums to show his appreciation.  He looks down at his boyfriend lovingly.  

Louis may act rough during sex, but he always takes care of Harry afterwards.  He’s his baby, after all.  Louis moves the cloth up and down Harry’s soft tummy.  

“You got spunk all over your top,” Louis laughs, pointing to the cum stain on the hem of his shirt.

“Your fault,” Harry giggles, dimples poking through his ivory cheeks.

Louis grins fondly.  “No, darling, it’s your fault for wearing it and getting me all wound up.”

“I didn’t know.  Forgive me?” Harry jokes, batting his eyelashes innocently.

Louis laughs and rolls his eyes.  “I love you so much, you idiot.”

Harry smirks.  “Perhaps I’ll have to find a crop top with your name on it.  I’ll wear it around so people know I’m yours.”

Louis curses under his breath.  This boy will be the death of him.

  
  



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